we two- 第34部分

But　this　man　had　somehow　got　hold　of　the　great　assembly；　had　conquered　them　by　sheer　force　of　will；　in　a　battle　of　one　will　against　thousands　the　one　had　conquered；　and　would　hold　its　own　till　it　had　administered　the　hard　home…thrust　which　would　make　the　thousands　wince　and　retaliate。

Now；　under　the　power　of　that　〃sledge…hammer　Saxon；〃　that　marvelously　graphic　picture　of　misery　and　bereavement；　hard…headed；　and　hitherto　hard　hearted　men　were　crying　like　children。　　Then　came　the　rugged　unvarnished　statement　shouted　forth　in　the　speaker's　sternest　voice。

〃All　this　is　being　done　in　your　name；　men　of　England！　　Not　only　in　your　name；　but　at　your　cost！　　You　are　responsible　for　this　bloodshed；　this　misery！　　How　long　is　it　to　go　on？　　How　long　are　you　free　men　going　to　allow　yourselves　to　be　bloody　executioners？　　How　long　are　you　to　be　slavish　followers　of　that　grasping　ambition　which　veils　its　foulness　under　the　fair　name　of　patriotism？〃

Loud　murmurs　began　to　arise　at　this；　and　the　orator　knew　that　the　ground　swell　betokened　the　coming　storm。　　He　proceeded　with　tenfold　energy；　his　words　came　down　like　hailstones；　with　a　fiery　indignation　he　delivered　his　mighty　philippic；　in　a　torrent　of　forceful　words　he　launched　out　the　most　tremendous　denunciation　he　had　ever　uttered。　　

The　string　had　been　gradually　worked　up　to　its　highest　possible　tension；　at　length　when　the　strain　was　the　greatest　it　suddenly　snapped。　　Raeburn's　will　had　held　all　those　thousands　in　check；　he　had　kept　his　bitterest　enemies　hanging　on　his　words；　he　had　lashed　them　into　fury；　and　still　kept　his　grip　over　them；　he　had　worked　them　up；　gaining　more　and　more　power　over　them；　till　at　length；　as　he　shouted　forth　the　last　words　of　a　grand　peroration；　the　bitterness　and　truth　of　his　accusations　proved　keener　than　his　restraining　influence。

He　had　foreseen　that　the　spell　would　break；　and　he　knew　the　instant　it　was　broken。　　A　moment　before；　and　he　had　been　able　to　sway　that　huge　crowd　as　he　pleased；　now　he　was　at　their　mercy。　　No　will　power；　no　force　of　language；　no　strength　of　earnestness　or　truth　would　avail　him　now。　All　that　he　had　to　trust　to　was　his　immense　physical　strength；　and　what　was　that　when　measured　against　thousands？

He　saw　the　dangerous　surging　movement　in　the　sea　of　heads；　and　knew　only　too　well　what　it　betokened。　　With　a　frightful　yell　of　mingled　hatred　and　execration；　the　seething　human　mass　bore　down　upon　him！　　His　own　followers　and　friends　did　what　they　could　for　him；　but　that　was　very　little。　　His　case　was　desperate。　　Desperation；　however；　inspires　some　people　with　an　almost　superhuman　energy。　　Life　was　sweet；　and　that　day　he　fought　for　his　life。　　The　very　shouting　and　hooting　of　the　mob；　the　roar　of　the　angry　multitude；　which　might　well　have　filled　even　a　brave　man　with　panic；　stimulated　him；　strengthened　him　to　resist　to　the　uttermost。

He　fought　like　a　lion；　forcing　his　way　through　the　furious　crowd；　attacked　in　the　most　brutal　way　on　every　side；　yet　ever　struggling　on　if　only　by　inches。　　Never　once　did　his　steadfastness　waver；　never　for　a　single　instant　did　his　spirit　sink。　　His　unfailing　presence　of　mind　enabled　him　to　get　through　what　would　have　been　impossible　to　most　men；　his　great　height　and　strength　stood　him　in　good　stead；　while　the　meanness　and　the　injustice　of　the　attack；　the　immense　odds　against　which　he　was　fighting　nerved　him　for　the　struggle。

It　was　more　like　a　hideous　nightmare　than　a　piece　of　actual　life；　those　fierce　tiger　faces　swarming　around；　that　roar　of　vindictive　anger；　that　frightful　crushing；　that　hail　storm　of　savage　blows！　　But；　whether　life　or　nightmare；　it　must　be　gone　through　with。　　In　the　thick　of　the　fight　a　line　of　Goethe　came　to　his　mind；　one　of　his　favorite　mottoes；　〃Make　good　thy　standing　place　and　move　the　world。〃

And　even　then　he　half　smiled　to　himself　at　the　forlornness　of　the　hope　that　he　should　ever　need　a　standing　place　again。

With　renewed　vigor　he　fought　his　way　on；　and　with　a　sort　of　glow　of　triumph　and　new…born　hope　had　almost　seen　his　way　to　a　place　of　comparative　safety；　when　a　fearful　blow　hopelessly　maimed　him。　　With　a　vain　struggle　to　save　himself　he　fell　to　the　earth　a　vision　of　fierce　faces；　green　leaves；　and　blue　sky　flashed　before　his　eyes；　an　inward　vision　of　Erica；　a　moment's　agony；　and　then　the　surging　crowd　closed　over　him；　and　he　knew　no　more。


CHAPTER　XVII。　At　Death's　Door

Sorrow　and　wrong　are　pangs　of　a　new　birth；　All　we　who　suffer　bleed　for　one　another；　No　life　may　live　alone；　but　all　in　all；　We　lie　within　the　tomb　of　our　dead　selves；　Waiting　till　One　command　us　to　arise。　　Hon。　Boden　Noel。

Knowing　that　Erica　would　have　a　very　anxious　afternoon；　Charles　Osmond　gave　up　his　brief　midday　rest；　snatched　a　hasty　lunch　at　a　third…rate　restaurant；　finished　his　parish　visits　sooner　than　usual；　and　reached　the　little　house　in　Guilford　Terrace　in　time　to　share　the　worst　part　of　her　waiting。　　He　found　her　hard　at　work　as　usual；　her　table　strewn　with　papers　and　books　of　reference。　　Raeburn　had　purposely　left　her　some　work　to　do　for　him　which　he　knew　would　fully　occupy　her；　but　the　mere　fact　that　she　knew　he　had　done　it　on　purpose　to　engross　her　mind　with　other　matters　entirely　prevented　her　from　giving　it　her　full　attention。　　She　had　never　felt　more　thankful　to　see　Charles　Osmond　than　at　that　moment。

〃When　your　whole　heart　and　mind　are　in　Hyde　Park；　how　are　you　to　drag　them　back　to　what　some　vindictive　old　early　Father　said　about　the　eternity　of　punishment？〃　she　exclaimed；　with　a　smile；　which　very　thinly　disguised　her　consuming　anxiety。

They　sat　down　near　the　open　window；　Erica　taking　possession　of　that　side　which　commanded　the　view　of　the　entrance　of　the　cul…de…sac。　　Charles　Osmond　did　not　speak　for　a　minute　or　two；　but　sat　watching　her；　trying　to　realize　to　himself　what　such　anxiety　as　hers　must　be。　　She　was　evidently　determined　to　keep　outwardly　calm；　not　to　let　her　fears　gain　undue　power　over　her；　but　she　could　not　conceal　the　nervous　trembling　which　beset　her　at　every　sound　of　wheels　in　the　quiet　square；　nor　did　she　know　that　in　her　brave　eyes　there　lurked　the　most　visible　manifestation　possible　of　haggard；　anxious　waiting。　　She　sat　with　her　watch　in　her　hand；　the　little　watch　that　Eric　Haeberlein　had　given　her　when　she　was　almost　a　child；　and　which；　even　in　the　days　of　their　greatest　poverty；　her　father　had　never　allowed　her　to　part　with。　　What　strange　hours　it　had　often　measured　for　her。　　Age…long　hours　of　grief；　weary　days　of　illness　and　pain；　times　of　eager　expectation；　times　of　sickening　anxiety；　times　of　mental　conflict；　of　baffling　questions　and　perplexities。　　How　the　hands　seemed　to　creep　on　this　afternoon；　at　times　almost　to　stand　still。

〃Now；　I　suppose　if　you　were　in　my　case　you　would　pray；〃　said　Erica；　raising　her　eyes　to　Charles　Osmond。　　〃It　must　be　a　relief；　but　yet；　when　you　come　to　analyze　it；　it　is　most　illogical　a　fearful　waste　of　time。　　If　there　is　a　God　who　works　by　fixed　laws；　and　who　sees　the　whole　maze　of　every　one's　life　before　hand；　then　the　particular　time　and　manner　of　my　father's　death　must　be　already　appointed；　and　no　prayer　of　mine　that　he　may　come　safely　through　this　afternoon's　danger　can　be　of　the　least　avail。　　Besides；　if　a　God　could　be　turned　round　from　His　original　purpose　by　human　wills　and　much　speaking；　I　hardly　think　He　would　be　worth　believing　in。〃

〃You　are　taking　the　lowest　view　of　prayer　mere　petition；　but　even　that；　I　think；　is　set　on　its　right　footing　as　soon　as　we　grasp　the　true　conception　of　the　ideal　father。　　Do　you　mean　to　say　that；　because　your　father's　rules　were　unwavering　and　his　day's　work　marked　out　beforehand；　he　did　not　like　you　to　come　to　him　when　you　were　a　little　child；　with　all　your　wishes　and　longings　and　requests；　even　though　they　were　sometimes　childish　and　often　impossible　to　gratify？　Would　he　have　been　better　pleased　if　you　had　shut　up　everything　in　your　own　heart；　and　never　of　your　own　accord　told　him　anything　about　your　babyish　plans　and　wants？〃

〃Still；　prayer　seems　to　me　a　waste　of　time；〃　said　Erica。

〃What！　　If　it　brings　you　a　talk　with　your　Father？　　If　it　is　a　relief　to　you　and　a　pleasure　because　a　sign　of　trust　and　love　to　Him？　　But　in　one　way　I　entirely　agree　with　you；　unless　it　is　spontaneous　it　is　not　only　useless　but　harmful。　　Imagine　a　child　forced　to　talk　to　its　father。　　And　this　seems　to　me　the　truest　defense　of　prayer；　to　the　'natural　man'　it　always　will　seem　foolishness；　　to　the　'spiritual　man'　to　one　who　has　recognized　the　All…Father　it　is　the　absolute　necessity　of　life。　　And　I　think　by　degrees　one　passes　from　eager　petition　for　personal　and　physical　good　things　into　the　truer　and　more　Christlike　spirit　of　prayer。　　'These　are　my　fears；　these　are　my　wishes；　but　not　my　will　but　Thine　be　done。'　　Shakespeare　had　got　hold　of　a　grand　truth；　it　seems　to　me；　when　he　said：

〃'So　find　we　profit　by　losing　of　our　prayers。'〃

〃And　yet　your　ideal　man　distinctly　said：　'Ask　and　ye　shall　receive'〃　said　Erica。　　〃There　are　no　limitations。　　For　aught　we　know；　some　pig…headed　fanatic　may　be　at　this　moment　praying　that　God　in　His　mercy　would　rid　the　earth　of　that　most　dangerous　man；　Luke　Raeburn；　while　I　might　be　of　course　I　am　not；　but　it　is　conceivable　that　I　might　be　praying　for　his　safet